


I Hope I See The Good In You Come Back Again

by vividtxt



Category: Blur
Genre: Again, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Suicide Attempt, lyn made me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-06-07 06:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6791938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vividtxt/pseuds/vividtxt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Working on an album was hard; anyone working in the music industry would know. There had to be new songs written, new melodies composed, and apparently, in their case, keeping watch of a grown man in his thirties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fall

**Author's Note:**

> ok this is another fic for lyn and BEOFRE U GET MAD AT ME im sorry and also i didn't proof read this because u're annoying ilu

Working on an album was hard; anyone working in the music industry would know. There had to be new songs written, new melodies composed, and apparently, in their case, keeping watch of a grown man in his thirties.

It was all the harder to work on a project this huge with Graham. Damon didn’t know what he was up to when he went home, but he suspected a lot of drinking, and maybe even some other things. He had to sympathize; their fame had him stressing out as well. Reverting to alcohol probably wasn’t the best idea when you had to meet your fans expectations.

Graham would show up late, unshaven and tired. He would insist he was fine and well enough to work on the album, but would always end up falling asleep or getting himself into trouble (like the one time he started feeling Damon up out of boredom and distracted the hell out of him). 

The lead singer didn’t know what to do with him anymore. He liked to think that he was closest to him out of all of his other band mates. He was usually extremely passionate about their band and would work side by side with him to make sure their new content turned out great. He didn’t know what had gotten into him.

-

The day their manager sat Damon down and laid the bad news off to him, he knew they had to go through with it. Graham was doing nothing to help with the production; maybe even slowing it down. Blur was too much of a big deal these days to mess around all the time, like they use to. It was just a little break for Gra, Damon told himself, just a little break.

Of course, Damon had to be the one to issue the news. Everyone else in the group was too afraid of Gra these days, with him spitting out weird bullshit that druggies just might. He honestly couldn’t blame them.

When Graham came into the studio the next morning, his eyelids drooped and his facial hair overgrown, Damon was there to meet him. He smiled sadly at his friend, taking his shoulder in his hand. Graham looked back at him with his eyebrows furrowed and his brown eyes wide.

“Uh, good morning, mate!” Damon exclaimed in a voice that he tried to make sound convincingly happy. When his friend didn’t look convinced, he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. How was he going to tell his best friend that he was basically kicked out of the band? Why did he agree to doing this. Why why why. 

His eyes opened again, his face now serious. “Listen, Gra, I really don’t want to do this. I love you, man, but-The guys and I have talked and have come to the conclusion that you should take a break. From, like, um, work. As in, here.”

Graham rubbed his hands over his face, biting the inside of his lip. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. That’s fine.” and he turned around and walked away. 

That was the last time Damon saw him for awhile.

-

He felt weird without Graham by his side, contributing his creative ideas and making him laugh when he needed it most. The rest of the guys seemed to think it was a little off too, but they never mentioned it. It was for the best, Damon told himself. 

 

A month later, he had not received any calls or visits from his friend. Damon was really starting to worry about him. Was he taking care of himself? What if the kick out of the band had caused his alcoholism to get worse? He probably needed his friend’s support right now. The lead singer was determined to get over to his apartment with a care package or something after their recording session the next day.

Damon was actually nervous as the guys and him started packing up for the night. What if Graham refused to let him inside? He probably hated him by now. Graham had had plenty of time to let his anger gather and fester, waiting for the moment when Damon would be stupid enough to come over to unleash his anger. 

Damon shook his head to get rid of the thoughts. Graham was his best friend, and probably a bit more than that. They’d fooled around a couple of times, never to talk about it in the morning, but Damon noticed things. How soft Graham’s eyes looked when he looked at him when he thought he wasn’t paying attention, and he’s sure Gra has caught him staring at his lips several (hundred) times throughout the years. Maybe he was imagining it, but maybe he wasn’t. Graham couldn’t have forgotten all of that within a month or so, could he have?

“Are you okay, mate?” Alex spoke up behind him, startling Damon out of his thoughts. 

“Yeah. Was just planning to head over to Gra’s this evening.”

“Good luck.”

He was probably going to need it.

-

The walk to Graham’s was shorter than he wished it was. The clouds had covered up the sun hours ago, so it made the walk seem less like visiting an old friend and more like going to a funeral. He used the steps and swung the small gold knocker, only to make the door nudge open. He found it strange that Graham would keep his door unlocked and open. Did he want his stuff to be stolen?

“Graham?” he called out when he was inside, walking from the entryway to the living room and then to the kitchen, looking for the guitarist.

He slowly walked up the stairs to his bedroom, not wanting to disturb the man if he was taking a nap or trying to relax. 

Damon lifted his head to find the man in question sitting on his windowsill, looking down at the city below him. 

“Graham?” he said, coming out in almost a whisper, barely making it past his lips.

“I saw you come up.” he said, still not looking in his direction, “Figured I’d stay around long enough to say goodbye.” 

“What the hell do you mean you crazy-” Damon didn’t get to finish his sentence before his friend let go of the railing and fell five stories. 

Damon felt chills go up his spine, and not the kind you get from watching a horror movie or listening to beautiful music. The kind that came on when you were terrified out of your mind. He was screaming before he even realized it, rushing over to the phone instead of the window. He’d rather not look at his best friend and love splattered in the middle of the street, thanks. 

He dialed 999, his heart racing in his chest as the phone rang. He should have never kicked Graham. He could’ve helped him get through this, he could have been there for him, he could have helped dammit! There was no one to blame but himself.

“Hello?” the operator answered, unaware of the stream of tears making their way down Damon’s face.

“My-my friend-he-he fell... jumped. Please, please-send someone I can’t-I can’t-”

“Yes, yes, certainly. We’re on our way.”

Damon barely heard her.

-  
Damon barely registered the next two hours. He rode next to his lifeless friend on an ambulance and instructed to sit in a drabby waiting room. He would have cried if he had any tears left. 

“He’s stable!” he heard, and his head snapped up. His eyes scanned the room, looking for someone he could bother.

He stopped a pretty nurse on her way to the room he supposed Graham was kept in. “Please, please tell me is it him that’s stable? Graham Coxon? Please say he’s okay.”

“Yes sir. I was just called for backup. I’ll give you updates later.” she rushed off into the room.

Damon sighed in relief, sinking back in his chair and thanking whatever god gave him a second chance.

-

He never left the hospital. The nurse was kind enough to let him use their bathrooms to freshen up, but he barely left the waiting room. It would only be a matter of time until he got to see Graham when he woke up, and he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Honey, you gotta go home sometime.” Damon heard the nurse’s voice behind him. He almost rolled his eyes; she just didn’t understand. 

“I can’t miss him waking up.” he said bluntly, ignoring the sympathy written all over her face.

“Here-I can just give you my phone number. Go change clothes and wash yourself. No offense, but you smell like shit.” 

“Oh-thank you. I’ll be back soon.”

-

It was on his way back to the hospital that he got a call from the nurse, and he scrambled to answer it, flipping it open with it only ringing twice. 

“Damon, he’s awake! He’s awake! Hurry back.”

“I’m already on my way.”

-  
Damon was near to tears as he walked down the hallway leading to Gra’s room. He would finally get to see him and really talk to him after so long of being apart. The man better not fucking leave him again. 

He entered the room, a grin breaking across his face as eyes fell over Graham. He didn’t look too good; he knew he had a few broken ribs and other bones, but just seeing his eyes open was enough to give him hope and joy.

“Graham! It’s me, Dames. I’ve missed you so much, dammit, don’t you ever-”

Graham’s eyebrows furrowed, his brown eyes wide.

“Who?”


	2. Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So, out with it. Why the hell doesn't he remember me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi !! i havent posted in months haha !! but this continuation is obviously dedicated to lyn again who has been pestering the fuck out of me to get this finished and i FINALLY did.literally just now. i went over it with my own eyes literally once so i hope its ok lmao i tried. also graham's state of amnesia IS rediculous i am well aware it was a joke between lyn and i that i made come to lifedjjdjd

“Who?”

  
The words echoed within Damon’s skull, his brain choosing not to believe them. He couldn’t believe them. Graham was his best friend and always has been, ever since he insulted Graham’s shoes in their childhood. They had been by each other’s sides for so many years, to the point where Damon stopped counting. How could Graham forget him?

  
“Ah, um, Mr. Albarn-we weren’t able to tell you about his condition before you rushed into the room.”

  
Damon ignored his slight embarrassment, looking the doctor right in the eyes. "So, out with it. Why the hell doesn't he remember me?"

  
"Mr. Coxon was diagnosed with amnesia as a side effect of his-er-fall. We don't know what he remembers and what he doesn't, or even if he remembers anything at all."

  
Damon took a long look over at Graham, sealing his lips into a tight line. So, he was included in the things he'd forgot even though he'd known him since he was eleven. Did that mean the man thought he was in the 1980s?

  
At Damon's silence, the doctor sighed and continued to talk. "We already asked him a few questions, like if he knew what Blur was, to which he answered yes, and we asked him about which members he remembers, and he named all of them by first and last name, except for you. We don't know exactly what this means, but it could mean that Graham's sub-conscience didn't want his waking self remembering you. Did something, perhaps, happen between the two of you?"

  
Damon started tuning the man out after he said that Graham might not have wanted to remember him. Why would that be? Did he really hate him that much? He'd just been trying to help, he didn't want him to die, it was his fault, wasn't it? Damon almost couldn't breathe, he wanted answers that Graham couldn't give him-

  
"Mr. Albarn?"

The doctor's voice interrupted his thoughts, and he was almost thankful. He couldn't blame this on himself. He didn't know Graham was that shaken up about leaving the band, he tried to tell himself. He didn't know. He didn't know.

  
"Yes?"

The doctor looked relieved he finally responded. How long had he been in his head? "He doesn't remember the accident, either." he whispered in his ear. "Try not to mention it, the last time we did he seized up and held his head in his hands for a minute or so without saying anything.”

  
Damon nodded, taking one last glance at his now sleeping friend (could he even call him that anymore if the other didn't reciprocate?) and turning around to leave. "I'll probably be back in a few days." he muttered sadly, trying not to let his voice waver. Of course, that didn’t work. He was sure every staff member was giving him a bullshit look of pity that he didn’t deserve or need. He pulled open the door to the hospital room, and tried not to make it obvious to the staff in the room that he was running through the halls to get out of there.

 

Once the word got out to the public that Graham was okay, he was asked by magazine company after magazine company to come in and do an interview. All of their fans knew how close they were to each other, and apparently all of them wanted to hear his angsty monologue on his best friend. The piece that they didn’t have was that his best friend didn’t remember him at all. He couldn’t face that; he didn’t want to.

Maybe it was selfish of him, but Alex volunteered to speak out about their bandmate, and he was grateful for it. Damon spilling it out to the public would make it all too real.

Damon didn’t come back in a few days. He didn’t even come back in a few weeks. It took countless conversations with Alex on his friend’s condition (usually ending in the other calling him a pussy) for him to finally convince himself he needed to do this, not only for Graham, but himself.

  
He gripped the cup of coffee he had purchased from the hospital cafeteria tightly as he rode up the elevator closest to Graham’s room. He looked like a hot mess, and oh boy did he know it. He hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep for as long as he can remember, and maybe he’s neglected keeping his facial hair looking presentable. His eyes were red with dark circles under them, so baggy he could definitely be compared to a raccoon. It would have been a good idea to freshen up a bit before this visit, but no turning back now, he guessed.

  
The coffee tight still tight in his grasp, he opened the door to Graham’s hospital room slowly and quietly, in case he was sleeping. He was greeted with Alex sitting on the edge of his bed, talking with him, the other adorning a wide grin on his face.

  
“People actually care about me that much? Guess I’ll have to get better soon so I can get back out there and work on that music!”

  
“Yeah, mate! Everyone -the band and the fans- ‘ll be glad to have you back. I’d better get back about now or my flat ‘ll miss me. See ya soon!”

  
He flashed a smile at him before rising and making his way over to the door where Damon was standing. “Good luck, mate.” he whispered in his ear, quiet enough that no one else could hear.

  
Damon bit his lip, looking over at the guitarist whose gaze hadn’t lifted from the spot where Alex had sat. He either hadn’t noticed the singer or didn’t want to acknowledge his presence.

  
He made his way across the hospital floor, his shoes echoing across the tile, making him cringe with every step. Graham’s gaze still hadn’t shifted. He hadn’t even moved, as far as he could tell.

But he sure as hell does jump to the other side of the bed as soon as Damon sat down on the corner closest to the door. His back faced him, and the other could tell he was shaking slightly. The singer frowned, reaching his hand towards his friend’s back in an attempt to comfort him, but decided against it. He won’t push it, no matter how upset he was about it.

  
It’s a few minutes before he decided to break the uncomfortable silence. “I, er, brought you some coffee from the café. Thought you might’ve liked that.” he said, awkwardly holding the hand with the styrofoam cup in it out, glancing between it and the back of Graham’s head. The other finally reached around himself, not bothering to turn around. He felt around for Damon’s hand, touching it with his fingertips a few times before he gripped the cup and snatched it from him. The singer couldn’t help but flinch. Graham’s fingers were cold, and it was the first time his friend had touched him in months. He tried to ignore the ache he felt in his chest when those words reverberated in his head.

  
He heard Graham grunt out a small “thank you” around the coffee cup.

  
Damon sat there for longer than he could count without being distracted, trying to discretely stare at his best friend for the first time in a long while and obviously failing. Graham finally turned around, catching Damon in the act. Graham had a tired expression on his face, but the other looked like a deer caught in headlights.

  
“Didn’t your mother tell you it was rude to stare?”

  
Damon just kept staring, his mouth wide open. Graham sighed, moving his body around to face the singer.

  
“Is this what you wanted me to do?”

  
Damon finally snapped out of it, blinking rapidly to try to confirm this wasn’t a dream he was living in.

  
“Y-yes, actually.”

Graham’s time in the hospital obviously hadn’t done anything entirely good for him. His stubble had grown out to almost a beard, and he looked exhausted. His eyes were hooded over and deep purple bags contrasted greatly against his pale skin. Not at all to say he still didn’t look good.

  
“Are you even going to say anything?” He looked caught off guard again, and Graham had to hold back his sigh of annoyance. Anyone with working eyes would be able to see the other’s eyes wandering.

  
“H-how has your time in the hospital been?” he finally squeaked out, once he had partially regained his ability to speak. If he hadn’t been afraid of going to see Graham, he was certainly afraid now. He seemed abnormally perceptive of him, for someone who claimed they didn’t know him.

  
Graham pursed his lips, thinking of what to say that wouldn’t scare him as much as everything else he had said did.

  
“They’re letting me go home tomorrow, Dames.”

  
Oh no. That was certainly the wrong thing to say. Damon’s eyes had grown wider than they already had, which he hadn’t thought was possible, making him look like a bug.

  
“Did you just call me...Dames?”

Ah. So that’s where he had fucked up. Oops. His one job was to wait until he was back home to reveal it, and he seemed to have forgotten that nicknames counted as remembering something.

  
He couldn’t think of a comeback ir a cover up before Damon’s arms were swarming him, enveloping him in a big, tight hug. It was Graham’s turn to tense, definitely expecting outrage from his best friend rather than...this. He eventually relaxed into the other, wrapping his own arms around him while Damon buried his head in his shoulder.

  
“I missed you so much.” The sentence was whispered into his neck, but he definitely heard it. He couldn’t count for anyone else that might have been in the room, though.

  
“I missed you too, Dames.”

The other’s grip seemed to tighten, and he felt something wet on his skin. Damon was crying. He had always known Damon to be the strong one. Never had he expected Damon to cry in front of him, especially over him. He tightened his grip in return, trying to comfort his friend as much as possible.

“I’m sorry, Graham. I know I was partly responsible and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I never knew-”

“It was no one's fault but my own that made me fall off that ledge, Dames. Please don’t blame yourself. I-I should have talked to you about it. That’s what friends do, right?”

  
Damon nodded into his shoulder, trying to suppress a sob and utterly failing.

  
“Yeah,” he said, pulling back, smiling through his tears. “that’s what friends do. But please don’t blame yourself.”

  
Graham smiled, pressing his lips to Damon’s cheek. “Wasn’t suppose to tell anyone about the memory jog, so promise you won’t tell anyone? ‘Specially not Alex, you know him and his big mouth.”

  
“Yeah, yeah. I promise.” He completely unlatched himself from Graham, smiling that cheeky grin of his. “See you tomorrow, love?”

  
“Don’t get too cocky, you stupid git.” he said with a smile, punching his shoulder playfully as Damon pulled away and headed towards the door to his hospital room. Graham sat for a few minutes with a grin spread across his face. “See you tomorrow, Damon.”


End file.
